Casado y Cansado

I had a really good time. I mean, the travel part sucked only b/c of the airport, but the drive to Nathrop and back was gorgeous. I'm really excited to visit the newlyweds in Alamoso sometime b/c I'll confess to having a massive crush on Colorado right now. The wedding was nice, a good mixture of tradition and whimsy; the bride wore white flip flops and their dog served as "flower girl". Yet it was romantic and beautiful. As I was trying to navigate my way to the meadow in my wedges, basically trying to get down a rocky, hilly path in heels, and cursing Leslie and her stupid romantic sensibilities, I slowly started to see the bridge over the babbling brook, which was encircled by the majestic beauty of Mt. Princeton. It all came to rest on the lush green lawn with tiny yellow flowers dotting the meadow. It was scenic, to say the least.

I do have to make a major confession here: this was the first wedding I have ever cried at. And when I say "cry" I'm not talking about the groom's mother who periodically dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief, I'm talking tears running down my face and me not wanting to wipe them away lest those sitting in rows in front of and behind me figure out that I was crying. Yup…I cried like a little bitch. I couldn't help it! The reasons were twofold:

1. Leslie's mom died about 2+ years ago. I grew up in their house, and when her mom was diagnosed with terminal cancer, Les moved back to Texas and roomed downstairs in my home so that she could take care of her mom and family. We, along with many of her other close friends, watched Ms. Cramblet deteriorate and pass away. Every time they mentioned Ms. Cramblet during the ceremony, it hurt like she had died yesterday, and when a poem of hers was read aloud, it was really difficult to keep it together.
2. I HATE TO SEE MY FRIENDS CRY! I could look at Leslie's eyes and KNOW she was about to lose it, and I just couldn't stand it! When I care about someone and I see that they're in pain, it just makes me want to take it away, so while this may sound nutty, I kinda felt like I was crying for Leslie so that she could keep her shit together, which she did, up until walking down the aisle, at which time I could finally wipe my eyes and collect myself.

The first day there I met Leslie and Luis (bride & groom) who were sunning outside. We sat between the pools (there are two, one heated to a pansy-ass 90 degrees, and the other heated to 100 degrees), and a pretty fast stream of water that came off the mountain. It was a very chill time, with various characters from Leslie & Luis's past wandering in and out. It was really nice to see people I hadn't seen in years, especially the ones I had remembered from her undergrad yrs. at Southwestern. Everyone was telling me how much worse the sun was going to affect me because we were so much closer to it, plus the cool wind made you forget the fact that you were baking. 5 hours, two 12-packs (we were all sharing!), and at least another liter of water later, I'm buzzed yet none the browner. Meanwhile, just about every gringo in the joint is lamenting about their sunburns. Cant' get a break here, can I?

Technically, high altitude is classified as 8.000 ft. above sea level, and we were at 7,965 ft. but I drank plenty of water, so the fact that I had come from San Antonio, which sits at 512 ft. above sea level, and didn't feel a marked difference while boozin' it up must be due to the fact that I am one tough broad. Ha ha! I sometimes felt a little blechey, but that could have had to do w/the fact that my travel began w/me waking up Friday at 4am, l then gained an hour (felt a little "out of it" like during the time change), and am quite certain that while the visiting Brazilians working at the hotel are great to look at, one of them is placing small amounts of ecoli in the water to make everyone just sick enough to not quite enjoy themselves. No really, I wasn't the only one.

Things I anticipated that never came to pass:
-High altitude sickness
-Terrifyingly cold weather
-Getting lost on way from Denver International (largest airport in U.S.) to Nathrop, a town about 3 hours away from Denver which (as near as I could tell) consists only of one single road sign.
-The same amount of alcohol at sea level will get you a whole lot more dunk at high altitudes

Things I didn't anticipate which DID come to pass:
-My scalp can get sunburned, though I have no idea how to put sunscreen UNDER my hair.
-Meeting someone who looks almost exactly like Magnum P.I.
-Bud Light in Colorado only has something like 3.7% alcohol as opposed to Texas Bud Light which has more like 6.3%.
-Leslie's PhD buds from NAU are pretty much all a bunch of humorless ass clowns who like to think their academic credentials somehow makes up for the fact that they're pretentious assholes.
-I have a low tolerance for assholes. (well…I guess I already knew that-wrong list.)
-You can only check your bags at Frontier Airlines 3.5 hrs before your flight begins to board, so if you check out of your hotel at noon, and think that knocking around the largest airport in the U.S. would be less of a hassle than using a lot of gas* in your rental car while exploring Denver before your 8:50 pm flight leaves, you'd be WRONG. Instead, you'll end up sitting on your luggage for hours right in front of the check-in counter, like a hen waiting for an egg to hatch.
-Makers of white cheddar popcorn should include plastic food-handlers gloves in each bag b/c after 3-4 handfuls, you've given yourself "stinky-cheese hand" the likes of which you cannot get rid of, no matter how much you wash your hands or apply lotion.
-Carting your luggage to the bathroom nearest to the Frontier Check-In Counter in the largest airport in the U.S. to try to get rid of "stinky-cheese hand" is not fun. At all.

I also got to spend some time with some folks from Seguin that I had gone to high school with. It is a bit strange that it took many hours of travel for us to get together when we all live about 6 minutes from one another, but I guess that's just how it goes. Growing up is just silly that way. And thankfully I'm safe and back home, snuggling w/Rootie and not wanting to do the dishes. Just as it should be. :-)

*gas was $3.49 per gallon in Denver.